


Gathering Hope

by yunmin



Category: Star Wars - All Media Types, Star Wars Episode VIII: The Last Jedi (2017), Star Wars Sequel Trilogy
Genre: Action/Adventure, Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Background Relationships, Battle of Crait, Fix-It, Fusion of Star Wars Legends and Disney Canon, Gen, Minor Wedge Antilles/Luke Skywalker, New Republic, Roadtrip, Star Wars: The Last Jedi
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-02-11
Updated: 2018-02-24
Packaged: 2019-03-16 22:07:38
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 18,654
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13645401
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/yunmin/pseuds/yunmin
Summary: As the Resistance evacuates D’Qar, Leia Organa sends Snap Wexley and Jessika Pava on a mission: find Wedge Antilles, and what might be left of the New Republic’s fleet.Wedge Antilles isn’t the only veteran Snap and Jess find.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> This fic started as Snap and Jess on a roadtrip to find Admiral Wedge Antilles of the New Republic fleet. It evolved into something quite a lot more than that.
> 
> This fic contains quite a lot of references to old and new Star Wars expanded universe content (Aftermath, Before the Awakening, the X-Wing books and New Jedi Order) but hopefully you won’t be lost if you haven’t read all those things!
> 
> I’ve tagged this fic as Gen as the main focus is on non-romantic relationships, but there is some romance inside - Snap has an established triad relationship, there are references to past Luke/Wedge and Luke/Mara, and a slew of other background ships.

After Starkiller Base is destroyed, Snap knows that they are on borrowed time. The First Order’s first call, when the dust has settled, will be to assemble a new fleet. And the first job of those amassed ships will be to come after the Resistance, and they will annihilate anyone still left on D’Qar.

So they need to evacuate.

That will be a challenge in of itself; it took seven months to assemble D’Qar base. When the Starkiller was trained on them, not a thought was spared to evacuation. They all knew they’d never clear the system. Now, it will be all hands on deck to load as many of the Resistance’s supplies onto the ships that will make the Rendezvous.

And there will be little help coming from the New Republic. Throughout Snap’s time in the Resistance, they’d all known that there were those in the upper echelons of the naval leadership, a man on the Admiral’s Council, who would come to their aid in desperate times. But the Republic has been destroyed. Fleet Command has been decimated. What remains of the New Republic will not gather itself together to be of any use to the Resistance’s evacuation of D’Qar.

They all need more time. But time is not a luxury they have. The morning after Starkiller Base is destroyed, Snap receives a summons to a meeting with General Organa.

Organa’s private office is impersonal. It’s small – she spends most of her time in the Command Centre, watching over her officers, always on hand to be consulted. There’s a small desk, and a computer terminal, and a motley collection of chairs. Those chairs have all been pushed aside, and the computer terminal is projecting an image of the Resistance’s resources on the far wall.

Leia looks far more collected than Snap would be, in her position. They’ve all heard of Han Solo’s death. Snap remembers the man, knew him better than most on this base, for whom he was nothing more than a legend. Snap had seen Han as a fallible man who made as many mistakes as all of them. But he and Leia loved each other dearly, for everything that has come between them. Snap can’t imagine loosing the people he loves like this and still managing to go on.

“Temmin,” Leia uses his actual name, which is used so rarely that it takes Snap a moment to remember that it is his name. He suspects that everyone on the base under the age of thirty believes that Snap is his name, not just a nickname that Wedge Antilles gave him when he was just a kid. “Captain.”

Snap falls in beside Leia. He consults the projection. He’s aware of how thin the Resistance is spread, but it’s still startling to see it laid out plain. Above D’Qar, four ships hover; the _Raddus,_ the _Ninka,_ the _Anodyne_ , and the _Vigil._ The _Echo of Hope_ is the other side of the Galaxy, in the Mandalorian Sector. General Calrissian’s ship, the _Lady Luck_ , hovers above the Unknown Regions; no one knows exactly where he is. He’s chasing a rumour, of resources left over from the old Imperial days, and no one has spoken to him in six months.

At the side of the projection, with no identifiable position, is the captured Star Destroyer, the _Errant Venture_. Snap raises his eyebrows at its inclusion. The _Errant Venture_ took itself off the map around the time the Jedi Training Temple was destroyed; Snap has always reckoned there’s a story there. The _Venture_ ’s Captain was Booster Terrik, and Terrik’s daughter had been married to a man who was associated with the Jedi.

But all the Jedi are gone. That’s how the story goes. The truth… may not be that simple.

Snap notices something else missing from the map. “We need a new base.” He imagines that is why she’s called him in here. Snap is the best reconnaissance flier in the entire Resistance; finding a new base is something he’s good at. He’s got some ideas already, places in the Galaxy with defences and off the way, that might work. They won’t be as good as D’Qar, but they’ll work whilst the Resistance gathers itself.

“Yes,” Leia says, smiling softly. “We do need that. But that’s not what I have to ask of you.”

Snap is taken aback. “What, then?”

“I need you discover what has become of the New Republic fleet.”

Snap furrows his brow. “Ma’am, my reconnaissance of the Hosnian System was conclusive; there were no survivors.” It had been a horrible thing to witness. Snap has been to the Alderaanian Graveyard, to Jedha, to Scarif, over the course of his duty to the New Republic, but nothing compared to the destruction of an entire system. They’d all held out hope that they’d pull survivors from the wreckage, but there was nothing. Just dust.

“You and I both know that whilst the Hosnian System was the home of the fleet, it was not the only base. There are remnants of the Fleet out there, and they need uniting. We need to know who they are uniting under. So far, our messages have gone unanswered. So I need an envoy.”

“Me? Why—” Snap takes a moment to think under Leia’s knowing, wry gaze. That hasn’t changed in all the years he’s known her. Snap gulps. There is one reason why Leia would send him, of all people, after the remnants of the New Republic fleet. “You think Wedge—”

“He’s the highest ranked officer we haven’t got a death confirmation on. If it was anyone…” Leia trails off. Snap knows what she means. Wedge has been in this fight since he was nineteen. He’s never left it. He’d be with the Resistance, if Leia hadn’t told him in no uncertain terms that he was more use to her retaining his position on the Admiral’s Council.

The New Republic fleet may lie in tatters, but the Resistance isn’t in the best shape. Distress calls sent during the crisis of the past week have brought reinforcements to their door, but it doesn’t change the fact that the Resistance has lost some of its best and brightest. Their decisive victory over the First Order will not last long.

“Wedge Antilles can bring us some hope,” Leia says. Snap stiffens. That was supposed to be what the map to Luke Skywalker brought, but he’s never had the faith there that others do. Now, he sees that Leia’s resolve is wavering. “You know how the Rebellion set the Galaxy aflame, Snap. Many sparks create a brighter fire.”

Snap nods. Never put all your eggs into one basket. Always have a second front. He’s being sent away to ensure the Resistance’s continuing existence, the knowledge that Leia has imparted over the years. He suspects he won’t be the only one sent out on a secret mission in the next twenty-four hours, agents slipping off in small one and two person fliers, Leia Organa planting the seeds of survival.

This is a contingency plan.

“When do I leave?”

“Fourteen-hundred. Shortly after the Falcon leaves for Ahch-To. And Snap?” Leia looks kind, a smile crossing her features as she speaks. “Take one of your pilots with you.”

.

It’s not much of a choice on who Snap’s going to take with him.

Jessika Pava might be twenty-five years younger than he is, but she’s also a kindred spirit. Leia had specified pilot, so Snap can’t take his wife and partner away from all of this – both of them will be evacuated with the fleet. Jess is his closest friend left in this place, and she’ll be safer with him.

It helps that she’s an excellent choice for the mission. Snap has no idea what they’ll find out there, out in the new order of the galaxy, and Jess is as close to an all-rounder as any pilot Snap has known. She’s a fine shot, good with mechanics, fast on her feet. A quick thinker too, sharp, her finger on the pulse.

He finds her and tells her to make her preparations to leave. They don’t have a lot of time. They’ve got time to pack their personal items, load some supplies, but that is it. And Snap has goodbyes to make. The medbay is busy and Snap almost walks straight into the strange desert girl, Rey, who everything seemed to hinge on. She’s leaving too.

He finds Penn first. Penn is striking, tall, and near-human – but still undeniably alien. Their skin has a greenish cast to it, hair a dark, violet ink colour which would be unnatural on a human. Penn grits their teeth when they see Snap. “Love, I’m busy right now, can this wait?” Penn turns to take a datapad off a droid. They are in the middle of seeing who can even be evacuated from the medbay.

“Afraid not. I leave in four hours, I’ve got prep to make, so I was hoping you knew where Lizan was? For goodbyes.”

Penn suddenly looks at Snap, freezing. They see that Snap is serious, and so the datapad is handed straight back to the droid. Penn takes Snap’s hand and leads him off, ducking into cubicles in search of Lizan. They find her with Doctor Kalonia. “Sorry,” Penn says, grabbing Lizan’s hand. “I must borrow Medical Officer Wexley for a moment.”

Kalonia tuts, but she sees Snap hovering behind Penn, and then she just sighs and waves them all off. Kalonia is another who has been with the Resistance from the start, and she recognises the expressions on their faces. Has witnessed her fair share of goodbyes, and counselled enough officers when their spouses failed to return from the war. She lets them go without a word. Penn throws their arms around Snap and Lizan’s shoulders and pushes them off towards their office. It will only provide a modicum of privacy, but it’ll be enough.

Lizan rounds on them the moment Penn pulls the door to. “Snap? Penn?”

“I’ve got my marching orders,” Snap says. He looks down at Lizan, who carries the rare distinction of being a human shorter that Leia Organa. She’s tiny, small and dark, and Snap has loved her since the moment he saw her, twenty-years ago, on a planet that no longer exists. “I don’t know when I’ll be back with the fleet,” he tells them both, feeling the weight of that settle around them all.

They’re military, all of them; they understand what it means. Sometimes they have to be separated. “Oh, Snap.” Lizan moves forward and tugs her husband’s face down into a kiss. Penn envelops Snap from behind, wrapping arms around Snap’s waist and laying their head on Snap’s shoulder. Snap feels encompassed by his wife and partner, these two people who he loves more dearly than life itself.

Penn draws Snap into a kiss the moment he parts from Lizan, long fingers pressing over Snap’s cheek. Their skin is cool to the touch. “Love you,” they whispers into Snap’s mouth.

“Love you too,” Snap replies. He manages to snake his arm around Penn’s waist, leaning himself against Penn’s tall, slender frame, and pulling Lizan close. “Both of you. You look after each other, alright?”

“We will,” Lizan says. “And you, you look after yourself, I’ve kept you for this long and I don’t want to let you go now.”

Snap presses a kiss to the top of her head. “Neither do I love, neither do I.”

.

Jess gives Snap an odd look when she sees him loading a disused, barely functioning droid onto their shuttle. She doesn’t comment though, even when Snap starts cursing up a storm when one of the parts sparks and shocks him.

Jess’s quiet scares him a little though. She’s not a loud person by nature, has always preferred the company of her ships and toolbox to that of other people. It’s one of the reasons why she and Snap get on so well; Snap knows exactly what it was like to be that kid.

But the quiet of hers is unnerving, and it prompts Snap to consider her closely. He somehow doubts whether she has slept since the destruction of Starkiller base.

Snap takes them through the departure procedures. The Resistance doesn’t have enough personnel to have a dedicated LSO, so instead, Connix and her team handle departures. As they’re the only ones leaving at that time, there is hardly anything to handle – just a clearing of the tarmac. And then they are in orbit, and then off to lightspeed, taking them on a course that Snap had plotted out that will hopefully lead them to the New Republic fleet.

Once they’re settled in on the four hour flight – this isn’t the Resistance’s fastest ship – Snap turns to Jess. “You’re taking first shift in the bunk. Go get some sleep, Pava.”

“I’m fine,” she says, in that same tone of voice they’ve all used, when they aren’t anywhere near fine but the only way they know to keep going is to stay on duty.

“Don’t make me make it an order. You need to rest.”

Jess shrinks in the co-pilots seat, suddenly small. “I’m fine,” she insists.

She’s battle-weary, Snap realises. That thing that hits them all, eventually, after everything is done. When Snap looks back at the days after Endor, he sees now that his mother and Wedge were essentially sleep-walking through their lives, along with many others, absolutely uncertain with what the future faced. They’d stumbled onto a world unknown. Snap had suffered a bit, after Jakku. “You’re not, and that’s okay,” he says, trying to be warm, and caring, something that has never come entirely naturally to him. He’s taken squadron leadership as a senior pilot, not because he’s any good at commanding, something he is constantly reminding Leia of. But he won’t let Jess bear it alone.

“I thought it would be different,” Jess admits, turning her hands over in her lap. “We just achieved this massive victory, we got the map – a Stormtrooper defected and it turns out there’s a girl wielding a lightsaber who can fight the ravages of the dark, and yet…”

“We’re still at war,” Snap says. “There was a victory, but we lost a lot, an entire system, our entire government. It’s a hollow victory. Is survival something worth clinging to? Look, I can’t say I’ve got all the answers, but – Jakku felt a bit like this. It was the last stand of the Empire and I fought in it, and I helped beat them back, but I also almost shot down my mother and my father died. It’s okay to have mixed feelings about the entire affair. That’s understandable.”

Jess nods. She pulls a hand through her long hair, currently bound in a loose ponytail over her shoulder. “How do you move past it?”

“Time,” Snap says, because it really is the only thing that works. “And throwing yourself into work. You’ll get there. You just need time for it to settle in and adjust. Sleep,” he says, summoning up his best stern face. “Let yourself rest a bit.”

“I can’t, there’s so much—”

“Three hour nap. Right now. Start there.” Jess nods. “You’ve got to start small. That’s what Wedge used to tell me – though he sure was shit at following his own advice. Do that. I’ve got things under control here.”

Jess pushes herself out of the co-pilots chair, back to the communal galley and the small bunk in the ship. Snap just settles in for a long flight in his own company.

.

The Hosnian System is dust. Snap has already witnessed this, but Jess hasn’t, and it makes her gasp as she surveys the sheer nothingness left in what was the seat of the Galaxy.

Of the fleet that was stationed in the Hosnian System, Snap’s already verified that they were destroyed along with the planet. All that is left is debris, a couple of transponder codes blinking quietly back at them, no longer attached to any ship, broadcasting messages long since redundant. They’re here to see if anyone else has visited; if anyone has dropped a beacon, or started a rallying point.

From a quick sensor sweep, it seems like none of those things are true.

Snap never thought it would be that easy. But he’d hoped that it might be, that someone would dare to come back here, and leave something. Of course, an un-encoded beacon is also vulnerable to the First Order, and it’s not like the Resistance has up-to-date Republic encryption. Even if there was something left, there’s little guarantee they could read it.

“I can’t believe it’s all gone,” Jess says, surveying the damage. She’s shocked to her very core, down to her bones. She’s never lived in a Galaxy where she’s woken up one morning and suddenly a planet that once hung in the sky above is no longer there. Snap has. It doesn’t make this any easier to deal with. “How are you so calm?” she asks him. “Didn’t you used to live here?”

Snap did. He spent most of a period of twenty-years of his life living on Hosnian Prime, apart from the handful of times he got ship-bound assignments. He’d met Lizan there. They’d got married in the Jannuli Gardens, just outside the main city. “That was a long time ago.” His home is with the Resistance, and his family is either there, or tucked away safely in retirement.

“Your mother?” Jess’s voice is edged with concern.

“Retired to Akiva five years ago, when one of my aunts took ill. She’s stayed there ever since.” Otherwise, this would hurt a hell of a lot more than it does. Snap lost friends, though he’ll admit that most of them were people he hadn’t spoken to for a little while. But he didn’t lose anyone who truly meant anything to him, for which he is profoundly grateful. He realises how close he could have come, that Lizan could have gone back to see friends, or his mother choosing to pop back in to see the life she’d left behind. But none of that happened.

“Antilles?” Jess asks, with trepidation. Partially for concern, partially because she and everyone else are never quite sure what Wedge Antilles is to Snap.

He’s sort of a big brother, or at least that’s what he ended up as. Snap will still jokingly call him dad on occasion, when it annoys him most, but that was never really accurate. “We don’t _think_ he was here. Haven’t had a death confirmation through, and we’ve got them on all the New Republic Admirals and Generals who were based in the Hosnian System, and a few who weren’t. Besides don’t you know what they used to say about Antilles?”

Jess furrows her brow. “That he was unkillable. But then, you know what they used to say about Skywalker.”

“Yeah, the difference is, Wedge has always kept his promises.”

It’s a cruel thing to say, but Snap has very little faith in mystical Jedi Knights ever saving the day; hand him a hard working soldier any day. That’s how they’ll win this war, with each of them working their hardest, giving all they’ve got to the cause. “Come on,” Snap says, as he watches Pava try to summon up the words to defend her hero. “Let’s flush this system, and then go and find where the remnants of the fleet are really hiding.”

.

They’re in hyperspace when an encoded transmission comes through; the First Order has come to D’Qar base. Snap and Jess don’t know any more than that. “Do you think it was time to get everyone out?” Jess asks.

Snap counts the hours. “People, yes. Equipment – we’ll have had to leave a lot behind. That’s going to hurt.” They needed more time. They always needed more time. What they had was never enough.

“It’s not like we had a surplus of equipment to start with,” Jess comments, which is true. “Are you alright?” she follows up with.

“Why?”

“Penn and Lizan are back there,” Jess elaborates. “Being hunted whilst we are far away and safe.”

Snap understands; this has little to do with his partners, and a lot to do with Jess’s guilt at leaving the fleet, the fact that she’d safe whilst their friends are fighting the First Order. Of all the things in war, sometimes learning to live in the quiet times is the hardest. Seeing your friends put their lives on the line whilst you hang back. “Penn and Lizan and I have made our peace with one of us dying in the war.” Well. They tell each other they have. Snap’s not sure he has. But he’s usually the one on the front lines, startling the wits off his partners. It’s one of the reasons why Snap is profoundly grateful for the day that Penn decided to muscle in on their marriage.

When Leia’s Resistance had formerly broken with the New Republic, they’d all been given orders to see out the length of their commissions before they defected. At the start anyway. Snap had eight months left of his current tour of duty, whereas Kalonia’s medical staff had all handed in six-week notices. As a result, Lizan had departed with the Resistance over six months before Snap could join her. In the letters she wrote, she’d started to mention the handsome doctor who’d started to flirt with her. Snap would admit to being a bit jealous, but it seemed harmless enough. He’d been glad that Lizan had a friend out there, someone to keep her company. He’d wondered whether they’d all be friends, when he finally made it out.

And then he’d met Penn for himself. Penn, who was even more dashingly handsome then Lizan had led Snap to believe, and who was charming to boot, and had extended their flirting to Snap as if it was as natural as breathing for Penn. Snap had felt – well, he’d felt how he was sure teenagers were supposed to, but he’d not exactly had a normal upbringing. It had been ridiculous. He’d been a grown man, over forty, happily married… and then, Penn Tyrest had walked in.

They’d spun themselves in circles for months, until everyone was sick of their antics. Snap and Lizan had found certainty in their desire, but trepidation in the exact matter of how they were going to go about inviting Penn into what they had. And Penn had toed a gracious line, flirting obnoxiously but never stepping over, always keeping it at a place where it could be denied that he had any real feelings, that this was anything but harmless fun.

It had been General Organa who’d pushed Snap out of his idling. Told him in no uncertain terms to not waste love where he’d found it, that none of them knew how long it was going to last so they better all make the best of it. Snap had kissed Penn in the med centre, the moment they’d got off shift, that evening, and he’d never looked back. Penn had wormed their way into Snap and Lizan’s hearts, and they became a triad.

Now, when Snap inevitable burns up in his ship one day where he isn’t quite fast or good enough, Lizan will have someone to guide her through the pain. She and Penn will see each other through it.

“General Organa needs us here,” Snap adds, trying to convince Jess that what they have done isn’t running away. “We’re doing essential work for the Resistance, Jess. The best thing we can do is find what might be left of the New Republic fleet, and convince them that they need to aid us in this fight.”

“How exactly are we supposed to do that? It’s not like they’ve been receptive in the past to any of our overtures. You should know. You’ve made a few of them. You _left_ the New Republic because you disagreed with it,” Jess points out.

“I left because I owe General Organa half my career; it was her who disagreed with the Republic.” And the Republic who disagreed with her.

“What resources does the Republic even _have_?” Jess questions. She throws up a projection of various resource allocations. “Mothma’s demilitarisation decimated the Navy. There’s been no rebuilding, they’ve held to the restrictions she placed, even as the Republic expanded and _needed_ more forces to defend the territory it held.”

“You’ve been studying this,” Snap comments.

“I think the entire thing was obviously stupid.” Jess hadn’t lived through the Empire. She hadn’t seen the end of the war, when everyone was ready for an end to fighting. Snap still doesn’t think Mothma was inherently incorrect about the need for a demilitarisation of the Galaxy, just idealistic about the way it would be achieved. That, and half the Empire tucked themselves away in the Unknown Regions and bode their time. “We’re looking at what, a dozen surviving ships that have the firepower to take on a First Order star destroyer. Nothing that could stand against a higher class of ship, and you know the First Order in bound to have those. The number of surviving snubfighters doesn’t even clear a thousand. The New Republic fleet was never going to stand against the might that the First Order has built up, and they’ve just lost a clean half of the fleet. And seventy percent of the Admirality.”

“Yes, Jess, the Admirality was the _problem_.” Snap butted heads with them enough times. Wedge had brought him into the military under Alliance protocols, meaning that he’d been a seventeen year old boy with a military rank and a position in a squadron in a military you had to be eighteen – or species equivalent to join – and required two years of academy training before you were allowed in the field. His first three years had featured a disciplinary record a mile long. He’d only survived with Wedge’s intervention. There was another reason he’d left with Organa. “We’ve got half a chance with the survivors. Wedge will listen to us. If he’s not wrestled command – it should go to him, as far as we understand – then Admiral Kenn is next, and she’s Outer Rim, if there’s anyone who understands the threat that the First Order poses, she does. Next is General Kalenda, and she’s sympathetic too, and with any luck her intelligence network is intact.”

“You’re putting a bunch of faith in people who have shown no signs of deserving it. If they’re going to be so helpful, they shouldn’t have done something worth a damn before this point.”

“Sometimes, Jess, you’ve just got to have a little faith.” Snap takes the display from her and adds the information he gleaned from Organa’s office. The _Echo of Hope_ is added to the board, and the D’Qar evacuation fleet, the Resistance’s five squadrons of snubfighters, and the bombing fleet. The various operatives that the Resistance has, out on planets, recruiting. He is cautiously optimistic and adds the _Errant Venture_ as well; maybe it is out there, something held in reserve for the Resistance’s most desperate hour.

Jess’s expression looks grim as she takes it all in. She shakes her head, and then taps a couple of things into her console. It brings up Resistance Intelligence’s latest guess at the size of the fleet the First Order is hiding in the Unknown Regions.

It dwarfs the Resistance and all their allies by a factor of at least ten-to-one.

“Yeah. Faith.” Jess’s tone is scathing. “Before the destruction of the Hosnian System, the Republic still had the arms to mount a defence. Now? I think we’ll need a miracle.”

.

Jess scans the navigational telemetry. Below is a lush green planet, nestled in the Inner Rim. It shows no sign of the destruction that the Galaxy has seen in recent days. Jess furrows her brow. “Tanaab?” she asks, looking askance. “Come on. I know Calrissian beat back some pirates here once, but it’s hardly the rallying point for an Alliance fleet.”

A garishly painted X-Wing flies across their viewscreen. Jess pulls their shuttle up abruptly, startled by its presence. She examines the sensor board, and discovers twelve ships, identifying themselves as the Tanaab Yellow Aces. She scrunches up the bridge of her nose. “What the hell—?” She turns indignant. “Yellow Aces my ass, what right do they have to that name?!”

Snap flicks open a comm channel. “This is the shuttle _Wuitho_ , Aces Leader, you there?”

“Yo,” a voice responds, and Jess continues to look irate. She trained with a yellow ace squadron, one that was named after the Tierfon Yellow Aces, where many a pilot who went on to become heroes of the Rebellion trained. “You Resistance? With a name like the _Wuitho_ , you’ve got to be, right?”

“What do you think, Janson?” Snap lets a small hint of exasperation enter his voice.

Jess flounders, and Snap sees her mouth “Wes Janson!?!” with increased incredulity at each moment.

“Shit, Snap?” The lead X-Wing of the motley squadron does another pass of their shuttle, with a barrel roll thrown in just for good measure. “Hey buddy, good to see you survived the Empire’s latest attempt at a planet-killer.”

“We’re just lucky they still haven’t solved the vulnerability to snubfighters,” Snap comments back.

“Yeah, the day they do that we’re all screwed and I’m retiring.”

“You’re already retired.” Snap shakes his head, but there’s a lot of fondness there. “You got a spaceport we can land at? Got a few things I need to talk to you about.”

Wes Janson, hero of the Alliance to Restore the Republic, guides them down to the planet’s surface. Jess concentrates intently on her flying, determined not to disgrace herself. A lifetime ago, Janson had honed his skills amongst the Tierfon Yellow Aces, and Jess will not embarrass herself in front of him. She will do a damn fine job.

Snap thinks she may well be completely overreacting. Janson has never been one to care for that sort of thing. Jess makes a perfect landing anyway, So there's really nothing to be worried about.

Wes greets them, when they exit the shuttle. He's got a wide smile on his face, and his boyish features mean you’d never guess that he was over fifty. The other members of the Taanab Yellow Aces filter in behind him. At least one of those faces is also familiar to Snap. That of old Republic hero Derek ‘Hobbie’ Klivian.

Hobbie comes to stand beside Wes, full of the same dourness he’s always had.

Snap shakes both their hands. Jess hangs back, until Snap waves her forward. “Jess, you know Wes and Hobbie. Guys, this is Jessika Pava, veteran of the Starkiller run, and former Tierfon Yellow Ace.”

Wes grins wide, and throws an arm around her shoulders, talking to her a mile a minute about the Squadron they have in common. It leaves Snap with Hobbie.

“Don’t suppose you’ve brought us good news?” Hobbie asks, with an unexpectant expression.

Snap shakes his head. “The Resistance is fleeing. I’m supposed to be seeking out the last of the New Republic fleet. Which, at this point, means Wedge. I think at least. I’ve come to ask your help.”

Hobbie shoves his hands in his pockets. “Well. I don’t know how much we can give to you, but – for Leia? Anything.”

.

Wes and Hobbie do not know where Wedge is. Wes is more certain than anyone else that he couldn’t have been on Hosnia – he’d received a message from Wedge to be on guard six hours before the Hosnian system had went up in smoke, and it had been location stamped just outside Mandalore, a twelve hour flight away even if one was in the fastest ship.

Which meant he was probably alive and well and gathering the fleet somewhere, Snap just has to find out where.

“We need to gather anyone who’s ever thought of fighting for the Resistance,” Snap tells Wes and Hobbie. “And tell them that that time is now. In a few months, if we lose this, it’ll take years to rebuild everything – another generation lost to the Empire. If you’re looking for something to do, putting out feelers to any former pilots, Rebellion, anyone you can think of – that’s what Leia needs you to do the most.

“You’d think after we retired Leia would stop being needy,” Wes jokes, and it’s only because Wes has known her for thirty-five years and is a known rapscallion that Snap doesn’t punch him for the insult.

“We got our thirtieth wedding anniversary in peace, you know,” Hobbie reminds him.

Wes laughs. “I’ll thank the First Order for that when I see them.” He smiles fondly at Hobbie. “No problem Snap, we’ll get to it. The Tanaab Yellow Aces are an all volunteer force that answers to me, so they’ll follow. We’ll get calling. See who we can drag out retirement. You sent someone after Lando?”

“Yolo Ziff departed just before Jess and I, he drew the short straw.”

Hobbie looks askance. “Didn’t Yolo used to—”

“—date Lyra Calrissian and last time she saw him she swore she’d string him up by the balls if she ever saw him again? Yeah.” Snap shrugs. “Short straw. We’ve got Tycho – he’s commanding officer of the _Echo of Hope_ , or at least was the last I heard, we’ve been reshuffling.”

“We’ll find you some. Bet Corran’s looking for a chance to whoop some Imperial ass,” Wes says. Snap notes the name. It’s possible that they’ve befriended someone else named Corran, but Snap assumes they must be talking about Corran Horn. Horn, who as far as Snap knows, is missing, presumed dead, and has been ever since the Jedi Training Temple was set alight. That presumption may not be correct. “Gavin?”

“Also on _Echo of Hope_ ,” Snap confirms. Gavin Darklighter seemed destined to go down in a blaze of glory protecting a Skywalker, just as his cousin had done. “Don’t think we’ve picked up any other Rogues, though?”

“We’ve got a list,” Hobbie says, in a way that sounds like they’ve been preparing for this moment. “We’ll find you some people, Snap, don’t you worry.”

.

Leaving recruitment of the old guard in Wes and Hobbie’s sort-of-capable hands, Jess and Snap resume the course Snap plotted out.

“Where are we off to now?” Jess asks, curiously eyeing the hyperspace route. “More places where you think we’ll run across some old Rebellion heroes?”

“This is more of a pit stop on our way to where I think Wedge would rendezvous the Fleet, but I think it’s worth a look,” Snap comments. He pushes a button and throws up their next destination.

“Mirrin Base? Isn’t that—” Jess eyes Snap warily. “The place that Poe basically stormed out of?”

Snap wasn’t there, but he got the tale from Major Ematt, not the ludicrously over-dramatic variant that Poe likes to tell. “It’s reasonably fortified, still standing, and Major Deso commands just enough respect that he’s probably being kept in the loop. He never liked the First Order. He just had a New Republic line to toe.”

“And that line got Muran killed.” Jess is fumingly angry about the death of a man she never even knew. Poe had never worn his grief on his sleeve, unlike everything else, he kept it tempered down. Only Karé and Iolo’s quiet refusal to speak about Muran in earshot of Poe, or much at all, had tipped everyone to the idea that there was more to the story than Poe losing a pilot. “I guess I see your point though. It’s a fair place to check out.”

So they fly in. Snap does the negotiating for their clearance. He gathers that Deso is glad to see someone still out there, that there is still one last defence against the First Order. They agree to land, and there’s a familiar figure, dressed in black, a Resistance rank pin hastily affixed to his non-uniform jacket.

Jess runs down the ramp and throws herself at Iolo Arana, who almost falls over but just about manages to catch her. “You’re supposed to be dead,” Snap says to him, because Iolo has been on the missing-in-action list for four months, and they all know what that really means.

“Karé’s going to be so happy to see you!” Jess says, letting go of him. Iolo doesn’t look any the worse for wear for whatever misadventure he’s been on for the last six months, but there is no knowing what he might have been through. He looks relieved to see Snap and Jess as well.

Iolo rakes a hand through his hair, sighing. “I’ll explain my mysterious survival later. Deso wants to see you.”

Iolo escorts them through the corridors of Mirrin Base, passing over Deso’s office and instead taking them to the central intelligence centre. A man wearing a Major’s rank badge stands in the centre, flanked by a captain and a pair of Lieutenants. He raises his eyes as Iolo leads Snap and Jess in.

“Deso, this is Captain Temmin Wexley, and Lieutenant Jessika Pava,” Iolo says, stepping forward into a place on Deso’s right hand side.

“Snap, isn’t it?” Deso asks, and Snap nods. “You know, you were the envy of my entire class at the academy. Antilles’ protege, out there fighting when the rest of us were stuck in classrooms.”

“It really wasn’t that exciting,” Snap replies. “Major Deso, you are one of the last Republic bases still operating. The future of the Republic lies in places like this. If you have any information about where the rest of the Republic fleet is stationed, you have to let us know. The future of the Resistance, and the Republic, relies on it.”

“The Republic is no more,” Deso says. “And I fear the Resistance may yet follow. But I do have one thing for you.”

He nods to one of the Lieutenants, who pushes some buttons on a central display, and brings up a message.

It’s Wedge.

He looks weary, exhaustion worn heavy on his features. But he still stands strong, and gathers his voice into a far more even tone than Snap thinks he could have managed under the same circumstances.

“This is Admiral Wedge Antilles, to any and all surviving members of the New Republic Fleet. By now, I am sure that you have all heard the horrifying news about the First Order’s actions against the Hosnian System. That attack has crippled our government, and our military. The Council of Admirals is no more, and I have taken control of the fleet. I urge any and all survivors out there to make contact; we _cannot_ stand for the reign of terror the First Order will bring. I am dispatching rendezvous co-ordinates in a separate message. If your hearts are true, if you believe in what the Republic stood for – Mon Mothma’s Republic, the one that the Alliance to Restore the Republic fought for – join me.”

“We received this message twenty minutes ago,” Deso says. “As of yet, we’re still waiting for the follow up.”

“I think I know where he is,” Snap says. Wedge is out there, and in control of the fleet, and _doing_ things. He can feel a spark of hope light up inside of him, that there may be some chance of them winning this after all.

.

When they are finished with Deso, Jess and Snap return to the _Wuitho_ ; Iolo is staying with Deso, to act as a liaison and point of contact here. The second part of Wedge’s message is still missing. They don’t know if it made it out the the rest of the fleet, whether anyone will be joining Wedge at the his rendezvous.

Snap fires up the shuttles engines. Jess checks their sensors, nav computer, and then has a quick glance over at the communications panel, to see if there’s anything there. “Kriffing stang nabit, of all the Corellian hells,” she curses, dashing out of her seat to get a closer look at the panel. “It’s an SOS,” she says to Snap, her eyes wide. “Automated. From the _Raddus_. Something’s gone wrong.”

Snap stiffens in the pilot’s seat. He only lets it last a minute, a minute where his heart almost stops in fear for Lizan and Penn and the rest of the fleet, and then he goes back to operating the shuttle’s repulsorlifts and getting them out of there.

“We’ve got to go help them,” Jess implores, her voice almost an octave higher than it usually is. Snap continues to set the hyperspace course he’s already decided on. “Snap! They’re in trouble.”

“They are,” Snap responds. He waits until they’re clear and into open space, lines the shuttle up, and pulls them into hyperspace. After a moment of ensuring that all is well, he turns round in his chair so he can look at Jess. “But what is one shuttle – barely armed – going to do against a First Order fleet? That the Resistance can’t already do? They have Leia, and Poe, and Admiral Ackbar, and even Vice-Admiral Holdo isn’t the shoddiest tactician I’ve ever met. The best thing we can do for them is to find Admiral Antilles, and persuade him to bring the fleet he has gathered to the aid of the Resistance. Do you hear me?”

“I don’t like it,” Jess says. “It feels like we’re running away.”

“Sometimes, running away is the smartest thing you can do.”

Jess glares at him. “That’s stupid.”

“I don’t like it either.” Snap gestures for Jess to return to her seat. “It’s one of those horrible things you learn when you’ve been around a while and they start promoting you; sometimes the wisest call for the galaxy is the one in which your friends die. We can do all we can to avoid those situations, but sometimes… we run out of options.”

Jess sits down, with reluctance. She looks at their route. Three hours until they reach their destination. “You want to do something useful?” Snap asks. Jess nods her head. “Run some battle simulations. Let’s take Wedge an idea of what he’s going to be dealing with.”

Jess settles in her chair, pulls up a holoscreen, and gets to work.


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> there is Wedge ahead :D

Jess stays busy with her simulations, all through the flight, until Snap brings them out of Hyperspace and her board lights up with two dozen identifiers.

She lifts her eyes and she can see a fleet in front of her, rising above the green and rainy planet that Snap once called home. Floating above Akiva is a group of ships that is ragtag and smaller than they might have wanted, but it’s still a _fleet_. She spots two X-Wings, breaking formation from the Combat Air Patrol that’s running, head for them. They’re from a squadron of six, all T-80s, instead of the T-75s the Resistance is flying.

There are five capital ships; the _Mon Mothma,_ the _Mon Remonda_ , the _Crystalline Dagger_ , the _Yavin_ _’s Hope_ , and the _Hosnian Sunrise_. The CAP. And a number of smaller transports, freighters, smuggling ships. One of Mandalorian design, with paint job that makes Jess wince. A couple of Corellian ships. And on the corner of her board, an identifier catches Jess’s eye.

“Jess, eleven o’clock, is that who I think it is?” Snap’s eyes widen as he takes in the identification codes beaming from two of the ships, sitting on the very edge of the fleet but still notably with them.

“It’s the Wild Karrde.” Jess can barely believe it herself. Talon Karrde’s flagship, alongside the remnants of the Republic? “Jade’s Fire alongside it. Kriffing hell. They’ll go to Antilles’ aid but not to ours?”

Jess’s malcontent is clear to read. But it isn’t like that. Or – well, yes, Karrde and Jade would always go to Antilles’ aid over Organa’s, if it came down to it. Something about an old family friend of Wedge’s, debts owed and leveraged over the years. Jade and Antilles had a sticky relationship, one that centred largely around the fact that both of them wanted to keep Luke Skywalker safe, and it wasn’t within their power to do so. When Skywalker had left, that had all fallen apart.

Several things had fallen apart, around that time. Jade had vanished into the night, for good reason. The rumours of Luke Skywalker being the last Jedi have never been what they seemed.

It’s not like they’ve done nothing to help Organa and the Resistance, though. “Jess, where do you think half the Resistance’s funds come from?” Snap asks. Karrde’s Smuggler’s Alliance provides the Resistance with nearly forty percent of their equipment. “And if that even is Jade in her ship – don’t you know the story?” Snap wonders if Jess does. It’s not common knowledge, but Jess also worships at the feet of Luke Skywalker, and so… she might. “If there’s anyone at the top of the First Order’s most wanted list, apart from Skywalker, it’s her.”

Jess twirls a strand of her hair around her finger, awkward and nervous. “She took a risk, just turning up. Antilles must have something on her—”

“Or she just wants to see the First Order die.”

“We all want to see them burn,” Jess says. “It’s got to be more than that.”

Snap wonders. He thinks of the whispers he’s heard on the wind, rumours that are barely worthy of the name – myths that are born out of hope, and nothing more. Does Jade have something up her sleeve?

He doesn’t have time to discuss it with Jess as the sensor board lights up with an incoming hail. “Resistance shuttle _Wuitho,_ please report in. Transmit your identity and clearance codes, and power down your weapons, or we will open fire.”

Snap grumbles about trigger happy flyboys, but does exactly as they say – and would have done the same in their situation. “Just patch us through to the Admiral, if you will.” He changes course to the one that the X-Wing’s transmit, that puts him slightly ahead of them, escorted towards the _Mon Mothma_.

“You’re patched.”

Snap hits the comm, changing the channel. “Yo, Wedge, you bringing us in? We’ve got news you might want to hear.”

“Have some patience, son. He’ll be in the hangar to greet you.” Jess wrinkles her brow, because the voice is female, and clearly not Antilles. Snap’s eyebrows shoot up.

“Mom?” he exclaims. “Mom, what are you doing there?” Then he puts a hand to his forehead. “Because of Wedge?”

Norra and Wedge had three years together before their relationship fell to pieces, and Snap knows that there’s still a lot of affection there. “I volunteered. Wedge needed someone to help coordinate the Fleet and the local planetary defence. I just happened to be on the bridge when you arrived. Glad to hear you’re alright.” She says it with a hint of chiding.

Snap glares at Jess, who has a smile on her face. He mutes the comm. “If you dare tell my mother half the reckless things I’ve done for Organa—”

“I won’t see morning. Got it.”

.

The _Wuitho_ lands in _Mon Mothma_ _’s_ hangar, and just as Norra said, Admiral Wedge Antilles is there to meet them.

Wedge’s hair has gone grey. It used to be as black as a raven’s wing, and now it’s heading towards white, rapidly. He keeps it shorter these days than he did in the war. He looks thin – not worryingly so, he’s always been on the lean side, but Snap does wonder whether he’s been eating anything other than base rations. He’s probably been skimping on sleep, too, his skin too pale apart from the darkness that is under his eyes. Nonetheless, he shakes off the strain that is clamped around him, and grins when he sees Snap.

They hug, briefly, relief that they’re both alive ever present. They’re old hands at this, veterans, who know how close they’ve come to not having a reunion. After Snap suffers Wedge’s inspection and hair ruffling – which he returns – Snap introduces Wedge to Jess.

They’ve never met. Jess didn’t come through the New Republic Naval Academy, and she’s never been part of any liaison force Organa has sent to speak with Wedge since the Resistance was formed. Wedge shakes her hand and smiles at her, and she smiles back, for politeness more than anything else.

Wedge shepherds them both out of the hangar bay, up towards the bridge and the conference rooms. Snap keeps pace with him whilst Jess falls a couple of steps behind. Snap glances back, and sees that Jess is distracted, inspecting an up-to-date, fully staffed and serviced ship, instead of the half-crewed exhausted vessels the Resistance is using.

“She was at Starkiller Base?” Wedge asks, in a hushed tone.

“Starkiller, Takodana, – she’s a damn good pilot, Wedge. One of the best. She also has a very low opinion of the New Republic’s naval forces, so prepared to be schooled,” Snap responds.

Wedge grins, the expression wiping years from his face. “I look forward to it.” He presses an access panel, swiping a comm chip, and pressing his hand against the sensor. The door opens onto the bridge, staffed with a full complement of the finest remaining New Republic officers.

Snap and Jess, in their flight jackets and casual dress, stick out as they cross the bridge. Snap spots someone else who looks just as out of place – in civilian clothing, silver hair cropped just above her shoulders – sitting at the communications station. He resists the urge to dash over to his mother, and instead just waves at her when she gives him a jaunty salute. He very much hopes she’s only here temporarily, whilst Wedge sorts everything out – or he’ll have words with both of them.

Wedge escorts them both into his ready room. Snap finds a seat at the conference table there immediately. It takes a gesture from Wedge to make Jess sit down as well. She takes a chair next to Snap, and Wedge sits across from them. “So,” he says, the cool mannerisms of command washing over him in an instant. “I take it you have news from General Organa and the Resistance.”

Snap recognises the formality of the situation. He’s about to respond in kind when Jess starts talking. “The Resistance is in danger,” she says, at speed. “They need help, urgently. The First Order – the scourge that the Republic let rise, the grew strong whilst the Republic rested on its laurels – has them trapped. General Organa sent us to enlist your aid, and you _must_ go to Leia.”

Wedge holds up a hand, because Jess appears to have only momentarily paused for breath. “What evidence do you have that the Resistance is currently endangered?”

“Automated distress signals from the _Anodyne,_ the _Ninka_ , and the _Raddus._ The Resistance’s evacuation fleet,” Snap explains. “Low broadband shortcode, the basest of emergency signals – I don’t even know if anyone at the Resistance is aware that they’ve gone off. It was a redundancy that—” Snap tries to think who had installed it. He can’t grasp the name. “No matter. It’s there.”

“So, the Resistance is currently under attack, from an unspecified force at an unspecified location, and you expect me to go charging in, with the scant remains of the Republic Fleet? Risking what may well be the Galaxy’s very last line of defence?” Wedge stares Jess down. She’s sitting in her chair, ready to fight back, to implore Wedge that he needs to go to Leia’s aid. “Lieutenant Pava, does that sound like sound military strategy?”

“No sir.” Jess knows she wouldn’t like to fly into an engagement blind like that, but she also has done it, several times, for the greater good. “But—” Wedge’s eyebrows raise, but he doesn’t say anything, so Jess carries on. “I know we’re scant on details, but I worked up some scenarios, based on the latest intelligence we have about the First Order’s resources. If you can add your information about the size of the force you can muster – the size of the force you are willing to commit to such an endeavour – than we will be ready when the Resistance gets us more information.”

Wedge nods. “That’s more like it, Lieutenant Pava.” His eyes twinkle with a smile that doesn’t cross his mouth. “Now, let’s see that work.”

.

Jess’s plans are good, but they are based on scant information. Without knowledge of where the Resistance is, there is no way to initiate any of her strategies. Even if the simulations look positive, filling Snap and Jess with a hope that maybe, just maybe there’s a chance to pull the Resistance out of whatever mess they’re in… they are nothing, without _more_.

Wedge asks more questions, about the state of the Resistance’s fleet, but Snap and Jess both admit that their information is out of date. He asks about Leia, and about Commander Celchu, the old friends of his who have defected. (Tycho Celchu is safe onboard the _Echo of Hope_ , outside this entire mess.) It’s clear that the strain of command, of being the highest ranked officer left in the entire Republic, effectively alone and facing an insurmountable task, is wearing on him.

Wedge damn near jumps when the door of his ready room glides open. He turns his head. A cloaked figure enters, and slides quickly into the seat besides Wedge. Wedge regards them cautiously and then relaxes as he, at least, identifies them. “Your duty officer wanted me to give you this.” The figure – a woman, by the tone of her voice – hands Wedge a datapad.

Wedge takes it, and scans the contents briefly. He sighs. “Well, that’s Kenn out. Can’t say I blame her – she’s probably better off keeping her half of the fleet where it is.” He looks at the woman. “You didn’t come in here just to give me this, Jade. Please tell me you’ve got some good news.”

“Well, Ghent’s trying to get a grip on this new-fangled tracking algorithm that rumour has been running wild about, but we’re no closer to locating Leia or the Resistance.”

Wedge cocks his head at her. “Can’t you find her? By—” He waves his hand about, wildly. His efforts, at what look like a child playing with the Force, produce a laugh from the woman. “Or does it not work that way?”

“It can,” the woman says. “It’s never been a skill of mine – if it worked, reliably, there are a couple of people I’d have dragged out of isolation long before this point. Wherever Leia is, there’s a veil between her and me – part of it by my own making, I’m sure. I’m not sure that this is the moment to go tearing down that barrier, though.”

Wedge nods, then swallows. He stands up. “Well then.” He looks awkward, almost sorry. “Until I have more information, I just can’t commit the Republic fleet to a fools errand, chasing the Galaxy for the Resistance. Captain Wexley, Lieutenant Pava, you are welcome to remain on board and avail yourself of any resources that might help you find the Resistance. Temmin – I’m sure your mother would like to catch up with you.”

“Yes sir,” Snap replies, noting Wedge’s formal tone. He pulls Jess up and out of her seat by her elbow, stopping any protest she thinks of making, and escorting her out of the room.

The door closes behind them, and Wedge looks across at his mystery visitor. “You can lose the disguise, Mara. It’s just me,” he tells her.

Mara Jade, former Emperor’s Hand, associate of Talon Karrde and one of Luke Skywalker’s first pupils in the ways of the Force, lowers her hood. Her red hair is still as fiery as it was the day Wedge met her, and the years don’t seem to show on her face. She gives Wedge a soft smile. “Can’t be too careful, these days.”

“I know,” Wedge replies. “Thank you for coming. I know that you took a risk in showing up.”

Mara leans back in her chair, projecting an air of casualness that doesn’t reach her expression. “Got to come out of the shadows at some point, haven’t I? Might as well be now, as the galaxy stands on the precipice, where we could fall either way.” She shakes her head. “It’s too soon, Wedge. In a couple of years, the contingency will come to fruition, and we’ll have something to fight them with. For now… all you can do is buy us some time.”

Wedge’s expression is grim. “I figured as much. Are none of your students ready?”

“A few – maybe. But you know as well as I do what the plan has always been. We bide our time. So that when we start the fight back—”

“—the First Order won’t know what hit them.”

Wedge knows the plan. He hashed it out with Mara, and with Mirax Terrik and Corran Horn, eight years ago. The Galaxy had been on poised to fall then, as well, with the Jedi Temple Luke had worked so hard to build, turned to ash. Whilst Leia and Han had been mourning a son fallen to the dark, and a brother gone missing, the four of them had pulled something together, a contingency that would take ten years to be ready, but was the only thing they could think of to stand against the dark.

“I wish Luke was here.” The words slip out of Wedge’s mouth, the vocalisation of an ever present yearning he rarely confesses to.

Mara reaches out. She takes one of Wedge’s hands in hers, laces her fingers through his. “I know,” she says, voice softer than it has been. If there’s anyone who understands just what it’s like to love Luke Skywalker, and to lose him – well, Mara and Wedge are partners in that. “But he made his choice, and we made ours. You’re the right person to lead the Republic forces, Wedge. I can’t think of anyone better.”

He nods, awkward. He rubs his thumb in circles on the back of Mara’s hand. He opens his mouth, hesitates, and then says. “I think… I think Leia was looking for him.”

“I’ve heard rumour of the same. Never thought much of it. I’ll commend Leia on any efforts she makes, but short of going there herself, I can’t believe that she’ll bring Luke out of his self-imposed isolation.”

They sit in silence for a moment. And then Wedge untangles his hand from Mara’s, and gets to his feet. He helps Mara up, and lifts her cloak back over her head, tucking her hair away into it, obscuring her identity.

“I should check what’s going on,” Wedge says. “See if they’ve recovered someone else to make the hard choices.”

Mara laughs. “I think you’re fresh out of luck there.”

.

Snap minds little that Wedge has secreted himself away in his ready room, alongside a woman who Snap has his suspicions about who she is. He doesn’t voice them aloud. It’s quite clear that she’s keeping her identity hidden for a reason. Jess has a harder time with it. She paces back and forth behind the communication’s station, increasingly nervous as each moment passes. Snap wonders whether she’d do better down in the hangar, putting herself to use as a mechanic, rather than up here watching Norra guide ships into the rendezvous point.

“The Resistance is running out of time,” Jess says. It’s a true statement, but an unhelpful one. “They’re—” Jess stumbles, but Snap can fill in the blank. _Dying_. “Out there, and we’re kriffing stuck here, and I know it might be for perfectly good reasons but it kriffing sucks.”

“Language, Jess.” Snap says. You aren’t supposed to swear on the bridge of a capital ship that isn’t your own, and they are standing in front of Snap’s seventy-five year old mother.

Norra just laughs at him. “Nothing I ain’t heard before, Jess. From this one, no less.”

Snap grumbles half-heartedly. He shares Jess’s concerns. Penn and Lizan are on that fleet. Their lives are in danger. Right now, either of them could be frightened, scared and terrified, living through what they fear is their last moments, could be seconds away from dying – could be _dead_. And Snap isn’t there. He doesn’t know. If the fleet is destroyed, he may never know what their last moments were, whether they were together at the end.

That terrifies him. He’s fought long enough to know that this could be their fate, that any of the three of them could end up dead at any moment, but Snap’s not sure how he could face life without both of them, to never hear Lizan’s pretty laugh again, or have Penn sneak up on him, tackle him into an embrace on the tarmac in front of all Snap’s friends, berating him about him putting himself in danger again.

“You heard Wedge’s reasons, and they’re sound,” Snap replies, though he hates it as much as Jess does. “We don’t know where the Resistance is, and without that crucial piece of information, we’re never going to convince Wedge.” He pulls a hand through his hair. “We’ll never save them.”

Norra gives Snap a look, the same look she’s given him many a time, that says she won’t stand for his nonsense. “If Lizan and Penn could see you despair right now, why, they’d knock some sense right into you. You too,” she adds, in Jess’s direction. “The pair of you, stop moping and get to work. Find that damn Resistance.” Norra looks posed to offer some more advice, but an alert sounds on her communications board, and she has to turn away to deal with that.

Jess and Snap look at each other. Norra is right – Wedge said the same thing. And yet, how can they possibly do that? There is no way to track a fleet through hyperspace, not accurately – you can plot a best guess if you observe their entry to hyperspace, but it’s always a guess. Pilots’ routes home usually involve multiple jumps, just to eliminate any chance. They’d just be guessing, and Wedge would know.

“If we put together a best guess,” Snap ponders, looking back at his mother. “Would you take it to Wedge? He listens to you.”

Norra snorts. That prompts a retort from whoever is on her communications line, too broken up for Jess and Snap to understand it. “No, Janson, I’m fine, my son is just being an idiot.” She shakes her head, addressing them directly – apparently, Wes Janson and the Tanaab Yellow Aces have shown up. “No, Hobbie, I don’t need any parenting advice, not from you – though I think they’d take some on ‘how to talk Wedge into things he doesn’t want to do’.” Norra rolls her eyes as she listens to the bickering responses. “Wes, I’m pretty sure that a stuffed Ewok is never the answer to anything.” A light flashes on her console. “You’re clear for landing in the Mon Mothma’s port hangar. Handing you over to the LSO, be nice to them.”

Norra disconnects the call, and pulls her headset off her head. “If you think Wedge listens to me—” She laughs. “He’s never listened to me. The only people who have ever managed to change his mind about anything are the Skywalker twins.”

“If he doesn’t go to Leia’s defence, he’ll lose one of them,” Jess says.

“And possibly the other,” Snap adds.

Norra’s head snaps up. “You found Skywalker?”

“Leia sent someone after him. She’s got instructions to rendezvous with the fleet—” Snap’s eyes widen as he realises. “She’s got orders to rendezvous with the fleet. So Leia must have given her something that enabled Rey to find them. If we can piggy-back onto that—”

“—We can find them!” Jess’s voice is raised in delight, and excitement. “But shit. It can’t be something that’s easily tracked. No one’s that stupid.”

Norra gives them both a stern look. “No. But you are on a ship with one of the men who knows Leia Organa better than most people in the Galaxy ever did, you’ve spent the last however many years fighting by her side, and oh look.” Norra points to her sensor board. “Talon Karrde’s ship has just docked. Talon Karrde, the information broker, who has been entrusted with half the Galaxy’s secrets. Go and put it together.”

Snap gets the distinct feeling he’s being shamed by his mother. He should have known all of this. He beckons to Jess. “Come on,” he says. “Let’s get Wedge, and see who else we can drag up. We’ll find them.”

“And maybe, by the time we do, they won’t all be dead.”

Snap winces. Jess’s comment is harsh, but there’s a truth to it. They are running out of time.

.

Wedge emerges from his ready room, the cloaked woman a step behind him, just as Snap is about to knock. Wedge looks surprised, but just as Snap is about to ask for Wedge’s help, an ensign at the communication’s station stands up. “Admiral!” she yells, in a tone that suggests urgency. “We’ve got a transmission from the Resistance!”

Jess and Snap both gasp. Wedge moves quickly to the communication’s station, and she shows him a message on the screen. He takes it all in. “Sithspit,” he curses. “Of all the damned places to make a last stand. Crait?”

“You’ve found them?” Jess dashes over. Wedge nods to the communication’s officer, and they show Jess the message that has been received. She sags in relief as she takes it in. “You have to go to them.”

Wedge’s expression is schooled into careful neutrality. “There’s nothing on Crait. I remember. It’s a bitter planet – we thought about setting a base up there once. We got found. It wasn’t exactly hospitable then, and we left precious little to make it defensible.” He presses his forefinger and thumb to his forehead, spread, as he thinks. “Stars and skies. I don’t know if there’s anything we’ll be able to do to help them.”

“You can’t abandon them.” Jess looks betrayed, as she turns to Wedge. “You said that you’d help, if we just found them.”

“I didn’t,” Wedge corrects, and he’s right – on a technicality.

“Oh come on,” Snap says. “You’ve gone to Organa’s aid with less – you’ve got an entire fleet at your disposal!”

Wedge stares him down and suddenly Snap is sixteen again, having said something stupid. “That’s precisely why I can’t just rush into this. I cannot let the remaining forces of the Republic Fleet be wiped out, just because of what I want to do.” He looks old, in that moment, the weight of the galaxy on his shoulders. Snap understands that he wants nothing more than to go to Organa’s aid. He hates that he is having to weigh her life against the survival of the Republic. For Wedge, who has known Leia Organa since she was nineteen years old, was once godfather to her son, present at her wedding, her life-long friend, the answer is simple. For Admiral Antilles… it is not.

Wedge closes his eyes, as he thinks it over.

“It’s not just about General Organa,” Jess says. All eyes on the bridge turn to her. “It’s not about any of those singular people who might be on Crait, those who survived the attack, it’s about the Resistance. It’s about _hope_. Commander Dameron, when we taking down Starkiller Base, he told us that as long as there was still light we had a chance. If we let the First Order win here, then some of that light will be extinguished. The Resistance is a symbol, and General Organa is a part of that. She – she led us all to the location of Luke Skywalker, did you know that? We found Luke Skywalker.”

Wedge staggers. The woman, who is still wearing her cloak like a shield, gasps. Neither of them seem to believe what Jess has just told them.

“Luke Skywalker is coming back, and he will come back to his sister, and so we _have_ to go and save them. The Galaxy isn’t ready to live without the Skywalker twins yet.”

An observation that Snap isn’t sure of the truth of – sometimes he thinks the Galaxy might be a safer place without the Skywalker family. But that doesn’t matter. What does is that Wedge isn’t ready to live in a Galaxy without the Skywalker twins.

Wedge gestures to one of his officers. “Resource report. What have I got?” An officer hands him a datapad, full of the information about just what resources he has at his disposal. The cloaked woman joins him, peering over his shoulder. She’s inscrutable. A strand of red hair has fallen from her hood, confirming Snap’s suspicions of who she might be.

Mara Jade herself, standing on the bridge of the _Mon Mothma_ , helping Wedge Antilles decide whether the New Republic should go to the aid of Leia Organa. If you’d have told anyone that this would happen one day, they’d never have believed you.

Wedge examines the report. He thinks for several long moment. The bridge remains silent. Everyone is waiting with bated breath to see what Wedge’s decision might be. He turns the datapad over in his hands. He looks to Mara. Several times, he looks close to a decision, but he closes his mouth and goes back to thinking. He rocks back and forwards on the balls of his feet, until Mara lays a hand on his shoulder, calming him. He nods, resolute, and then assumes the mantle of Admiral Antilles again.

“I have made a decision,” Wedge says to the bridge. He takes a deep breath. “We’re going to go to the Resistance’s aid.” He gestures to a comm officer, and they hand him a headset, and signal to another operator. Wedge’s words are now being broadcast across the fleet.

“This is Admiral Wedge Antilles, to the fleet. Some of you may be aware that General Organa’s Resistance is making its last stand, right now. I have decided that we will go to her aid.” Snap can’t stop the grin that crosses his face; Jess punches the air. “The mission will be volunteer only. It will be dangerous. If I can get the volunteers to crew them, I will take the _Mon Mothma,_ the _Mon Remonda_ , and _Crystalline Dagger_ to fight the First Order, as well as every snubfighter we can load into the hangars and find a pilot for.”

“The rest of the fleet will be left to General Kalenda, who you will all be relieved to hear has been found, safe and sound. Her shuttle arrived on the _Mon Remonda_ ten minutes ago. Even as the First Order marches into our territory, there are still Republic Bases out there willing to do what is necessary. Anyone who stays under her command will still be doing valuable work, helping what is left of the Republic fight back.”

Wedge ducks his head. “Everyone here who knows their history knows that General Organa is a personal friend of mine. I want her safe – as we all want of our friends. But more than that, I believe that if anyone is capable of uniting us against the First Order, of spearing the fight – it is her.” His words have echoes of the speech that Jess gave him, that clearly got to him. “We need the experience the Resistance has of fighting the First Order. And that is why I have chosen to go to the Resistance’s Aid.”

“Make your declarations to your Commanders within thirty minutes. We are running out of time.”

Wedge pulls the headset from his face, and hands it off to the communications officer who’s waiting. He looks around the bridge. “Any officer on deck who isn’t planning on staying, out, now.” No one moves, and Wedge sighs wearily. “I won’t judge you for it.” Still, silence. Every single officer remains at their post. Wedge shakes his head. “You’re a foolhardy bunch. But thank you.”

He turns away from them and to the woman who’s still stood by his side, watching his every move. Mara. “I don’t think I can stay,” she says, regret in her voice. “This time, this place: this isn’t where my stand should be made. This is yours. For now, I’ll melt back into the shadows.”

“I’d never ask you to stay,” Wedge says. “I’d feel safer if you did, but I also understand that the Galaxy needs you elsewhere. Go back to the _Venture_. Keep those kids safe.”

“I will.” Mara reaches a hand out and brushes her fingers against Wedge’s jaw. The intimacy of the gesture surprises Snap. “Stay safe, Wedge. Good hunting. And if you see Skywalker before I do – tell him I said hi.”

Wedge smiles. “And if you beat me to it – tell him the same.”

Mara nods. She drops her fingers from Wedge’s face. She holds her cloak tight around her face, and sweeps the errant strand of hair back into her hood. She walks off the bridge and melts back into the black, back into whatever she was doing before this crisis hit.

.

Down in the _Mon Mothma_ _’s_ hangar, pilots scuttle about, crew and mechanics following them as all the reassignments come through. They are on a tight schedule. Wedge has his crews for the ships he intends to take. He’s had no problems recruiting pilots – there are few Starfighter pilots who wouldn’t fly into death if Wedge Antilles asked them to. They are almost ready to depart, on their way to Crait, to see what is left of the Resistance to be saved.

In all of this, Jessika Pava has managed to secure herself a ship, and borrowed the gear necessary to fly it. Snap takes one look at the X-Wing they’ve assigned her and laughs.

“Man, Jess,” he says, as she looks at him bemused. He claps a hand on her back, shaking with laughter. “You must have made one hell of an impression on Wedge.”

“Why?” She squints at him, and then dashes over to the X-Wing. She hadn’t done more than glance at the old ship, faded paint across it indicating that it might once have belonged to Rogue Squadron, the red livery chipped and scuffed. Her fingers trace the kill markings lined on its side. Dozens upon dozens of TIE fighters, Star Destroyers, Lancer-class Frigates, and then – two Death Stars. “This is his ship,” she says, looking at it in astonishment.

“Yeah.”

Jess backs away. “I can’t fly this. What if I—” Snap steps up and grabs her by the shoulders, forcing her to look at him. She’s panicking. She’s never liked flying anything that wasn’t her own ship, needing to know all the faults, how it was put together. To add to that stress by knowing that she’d been entrusted with Wedge Antilles personal X-Wing – well. If Wedge had told Snap what he intended to do, Snap would have counselled against it.

But Snap understands the gesture. Wedge trusts Jess. For all their arguing on the bridge, for all Jess had challenged Wedge at every moment, forcing him to be better – Wedge had taken to that. “You can. He trusts you. I trust you.” Snap pulls Jess against his chest and hugs her close. “You are going to go out there and be incredible, you hear me?”

Jess loops her arms around Snap’s waist. They aren’t prone to displays of affection – they all leave that to Poe, who can’t make it out the hangar most days without looping an arm around someone’s waist or shoulders and pulling them close. But standing here, only a couple of weeks after they almost lost everything, once against heading into a battle they don’t know if they can win, but one they _have_ to win, for the good of the galaxy – it changes things.

“What about you? Have they got you a ship.”

“I’m doing what I always do,” Snap comments. “Flying recon. What else. It’s my job to go and see just what we’re up against.”

Jess draws away, dabs a wetness that’s gathered below her eyes with the palm of her hand. “Stay safe, hey?” she asks him. “Who knows who we’ve got left but each other.”

Snap nods, rigidly. She speaks a truth that he does not want to face. For the Resistance to get so desperate to land on a planet, to stage a ground assault – when their pilots have always been their greatest asset – means that most of their pilots may well be dead.

“May the Force be with you, Jess.”

“May the Force be with all of us.”


	3. Chapter 3

Wedge stands steady on the bridge as he orders the fleet into position above Crait.

An advance scout reports that the First Order’s fleet is in tatters. Rendered asunder by one daring last action, the wreckage of the _Raddus_ clear throughout the debris of the the First Order’s Star Destroyers. The _Supremacy_ is still functioning, afloat and adrift in space, but the damage is such that it will not be able to put up a fight. The First Order has already descended on Crait. There are legions of TIE fighters which were not destroyed. There is no shortage of danger for that the Republic is flying into, even though the challenge is not what it should have been.

Wedge takes the fleet in close, closer than he usually would. The plan – what there is of one – is simple. Get the Resistance off the planet, get out of there. Do as much damage to the First Order as possible. Wedge is pretty certain that no one has been back to Crait since the Rebellion was last there, over thirty years ago. From what Wedge remembers, all that was left there was some dusty intelligence equipment, and a squadron of skim-speeders, that hadn’t worked stunningly the first time round. He doesn’t doubt that the Resistance won’t mount a formidable defence with the resources they have, but it won’t be enough to get them out of there.

The _Mon Mothma_ emerges into realspace, amongst the debris field of all the ships who have already gone. Parts of the wreckage batter the shields, and Wedge grips the rail in front of him as the ship steadies. “All Starfighter Units away,” Wedge orders. “Aces, Wraith, Blue, get down to the planet. Give the Resistance some cover. Green, Polearm, stay close – the First Order will come for us. Good hunting, people.”

X-Wings and A-Wings pour out the ships. The gaudy colours of the Tanaab Yellow Aces, ships painted in yellow and black stripes, are the most clearly visible. The rest of the ships are painted a motley collection of colours; there had been no time to repaint. Six X-Wings, T-80s, have grey markings on their wings. Eight A-Wings pull away, racing on ahead, leaving bright streaks across open dark space in their wake.

Jessika Pava, rather appropriately, is flying as part of Blue Squadron. The X-Wing may have red livery on its s-foils, but she is flying under a banner she knows well. She follows her squadron down to the planet. There are six A-Wings assigned to Blue Squadron, Blue Leader in one of them, and they speed out ahead, the advance guard. Jess kicks her discretionary power into her engines, keeping up with her flight.

The battlefield comes into view. A large iron door, that stretches up some two hundred metres, barricades the mine. The First Orders troops are lined up in front of it, an astonishing amount of firepower arrayed for the pure purpose of reducing the Resistance to nothing.

“They’ve got walkers!”

The advance A-Wings all bank, hard, completing an arc across the battlefield. Jess surveys the data they transmit to her, starts priming targets in her head. The First Order brought the resources for a ground battle, not one in the air, so the force in composed of the heavy artillery required for a ground invasion. That doesn’t mean the AT-ATs don’t pose a threat to the Starfighters if the First Order targets them though.

“Leave them to us, Blue Leader.” Aces Leader’s voice has a hint of mischief in it. “Shame we don’t have some speeders and tow cables, eh, Aces Two?”

“Proton Torpedoes do the job far better,” a morose voice comes back. “We did enough of that for one lifetime.”

Jess remembers the stories from Hoth, how Rogue Squadron took down the fleet of invading AT-ATs, with their harpoons and tow cables and nothing but some flaky snowspeeders. She remembers how most of them died doing it.

And if the AT-ATs weren’t enough of a problem, then two squadrons of TIE fighters rise up into the air. Jess curses, and jerks her X-Wing into a weaving pattern to dodge the fire.

“AT-ATs are yours, Aces Leader, the Wraiths will take the TIEs. Blue, back us up.”

Jess checks her sensor board. The Squadron has been split into four flights, and as Blue Ten, she is responsible for the fourth. She switches to the comm to the flight channel. “Okay, four-flight, let’s watch the Wraiths backs, on me.”

Jess follows the Wraith’s six X-Wings, six ships in tight formation, already trying to lead some of the TIEs away from the battleground. Below, a set of skim-speeders sets off on an offensive towards the First Order’s lines, kicking red dust up in their wake. Jess sends up a silent prayer for all her friends, those who are left, to survive this.

.

Above Crait, skirting dangerously close to the atmosphere, Wedge leads his fleet in dodging the firepower that the remnants of the First Order fleet has managed to muster, all whilst keeping an eye on the battle below.

He’s always been a small unit tactician, that’s been his speciality. He’s at his finest with a squadron of X-Wings at his disposal, but he can manage his way round directing an A-Wing squadron as well, or even a small commando unit. Over the years, he’s learnt – from observation as much as formal learning – how to command a capital ship, how to make the hard calls, how to trust his people to do their jobs.

The two Star Destroyers that are functional, with only partial guns, are no imminent threat to the _Mon Mothma_ , the _Mon Remonda_ , or the _Crystalline Dagger_. Neither do the TIE fighters some First Order general kept back to defend the meagre fleet. But Wedge knows that all it could take is one lucky shot, and keeps his people sharp and aware.

“ _Mon Mothma_ , I’ve got an unidentified ship out here.” Polearm Seven, an old veteran who Wedge has worked with before by the name of Dorset Konnair, transmits the message over the priority channel, and Wedge dashes over to one of the sensor boards to get a better look.

There’s no identification, but the ship is racing towards Crait. “Pursue it, Polearm Seven. See if it’s a friendly or not.”

There’s always the chance that it’s someone who’s responding to Leia’s cry for help independently. If so, Wedge needs to know, so no one shoots them out the sky. And if possible they should coordinate their attack.

Wedge turns back across the bridge, signalling to a young ensign at the communications station. “Hail them. Let me know the second you can get through.”

“ _Mon Mothma_ , it’s the _Millennium Falcon_.” Konnair is astonished. “They’re in atmo, should I pursue them down to the planet?”

Wedge shakes his head, and one of the ensigns relays his orders. “Let the squadrons know that the _Millennium Falcon_ is joining the party.”

Wedge steps over to a secondary sensor station, that’s keeping a watch on the battle below. The ship, now tagged as the _Falcon_ , sweeps across the battlefield, taking out three TIEs in a straight sweep. Wedge can tell from the shot pattern that someone’s down in the ventral cannon – you can’t shoot and fly like that from the Falcon’s cockpit.

That raises the question of who’s flying it.

He knows that the _Falcon_ was sent to find Luke, alongside Chewbacca, and a girl named Rey. He’d pried the details from Snap during the jump to Crait. As reports come in from the accuracy of the _Falcon_ ’s impossible shots, how the TIEs dwindle to single-figures, Wedge suspects that the gunner has a spark of the Force guiding his shots.

His chest goes tight at who it could be.

He looks up, intending to move to the second part of the plan, and his eyes catch on a figure who’s standing in the centre of the bridge, who wasn’t there a moment ago. His breath is stolen away from him, as the shock curses through him.

Luke.

Luke is standing there.

Wedge staggers on his feet. Luke just smiles softly. “You know,” he says, and Wedge feels his stomach drop and his heart clench at the sound of that voice, “After everything Rey said, I thought I’d be needed here. But I think you’ve done it. You’ll get the Resistance out of there, Rogue Leader.”

“Luke—” Wedge steps towards him, hand out. Luke meets it, fingertips brushing each other. There’s a spark of warmth and light, and yet— Luke isn’t really there. He can’t be. There’s no way, even if he was on the _Falcon_ , that he could have boarded the ship and gained entrance to the bridge. The Force doesn’t work that way. This is an illusion of some kind.

And yet, this _is_ Luke. It’s him. Not some figment of Wedge’s imagination, or a dream come to life. This is real.

“May the Force be with you, Wedge.” Luke’s tone is low, the words addressed just to Wedge, and Wedge swallows back his emotions. He has so many things he wants to say to Luke. So many questions to ask. everything he wants to say, in favour of putting a smile on his face. Then Luke looks up, and addresses the whole bridge. “May the Force be with all of you.”

And then he is gone again.

“Sir—” The officer nearest Wedge looks at him with a furrowed brow, voice laced with concern.

“I’m fine,” Wedge insists. “You heard the man. We’ve got this. I want a damage report, and lets get that evacuation underway. I think the First Order are sufficiently distracted.”

.

Snap is sat in the cockpit of a transport freighter, located just inside the _Mon Mothma_ _’s_ hangar, when the order comes in for the evacuation to get underway. He fires his engines up and launches out into open space, on his way to the planet below.

A flight of X-Wings forms up on him, providing a screen against any attack that might come his way. “We’ve got you, _Moth_ ,” Polearm Seven says. Snap double-clicks his comm in confirmation, and focuses on navigating his way through the debris and then down through the atmosphere.

The First Order’s attack line has been ravaged. TIE fighter wreckage is strewn across the ground, though Snap can see downed X-Wings and A-Wings amongst them. Everyone has taken casualties. The skim-speeders lie abandoned out on the red dust plains of Crait. The Resistance has fallen back to their lines.

A lone figure, dressed all in black, is standing out on the surface. A red lightsaber blazes in his hand. He’s the only figure on the battlefield, seemingly in pursuit of a ghost. No one else is there for him to fight.

But with Kylo Ren on the battlefield, there is no way to get the Resistance out the front door. The First Order is still firing, intermittently, and Snap suspects they’re capable of launching a much larger barrage if necessary. The only problem is, as far as Wedge was aware, there is only one way out of the mine; the front.

“Has anyone raised the Resistance?” Snap asks over the open comm.

Jess comes through. “I’ve got Dameron! Give me a sec, I’ll patch you through.”

Snap breathes a sigh of relief that Poe is still with them. When he’d seen the skim-speeders, he’d had little doubt that Poe was at the front of that, leading the crazy charge, but this battle has raged long enough that they could have lost him.

“Snap!?!” Poe’s voice comes through, full of delight and relief and surprise.

“Commander,” Snap replies. “Don’t suppose you guys have found a back route out of that mine? We’ve got to get you out of there before the First Order regroups on us.”

Snap hears the echos of busy talk and discussion over the comm. He leads his shuttle over the mountain the mine is situating in, peering down into red crystal caves. He checks his sensor board. The Falcon is over this way, having dealt with the TIEs it pulled away from the battle. Maybe whoever is flying it is looking for the same thing, a way to get the Resistance out of the trap they’ve locked themselves into. He heads in that direction, over the back of salt crevices.

“We’re going to give it a shot,” Poe confirms. “Pretty sure there’s a way out somehow.”

“Good to hear it!” Snap flicks his comm off, and focuses on following the Falcon. There isn’t a lot he can do to direct Poe, unless he finds a back way in. For now, his best chance is teaming up with the Falcon.

He tries hailing the Falcon again, but as with all the calls, it doesn’t go anywhere. Snap grits his teeth in frustration. According to his sensor board, the Falcon has drawn the a halt. He checks the status of the Republic Fleet. They’re still taking casualties. Snap engages the throttle, coaxing a little more speed out the sublights, for his run over the salt canyons.

Deep veins of red crystal fall away beneath him, and so Snap thinks that there must be a way out. If only Poe can find it. Across the surface, a number of crystalline creatures run, like a pack, escaping and running from something. Snap tracks them backwards, in hope that they might be fleeing out the mine, and finds the Falcon, settled in a flat canyon. The crystalline creatures dash past it, paying it no heed.

Snap settles his ship down beside it, on a precarious surface. He sets the autopilot and distress beacon ready and armed, and then leaves the cockpit. As he lowers the gangway, he kneels next to an old droid, cobbled together from bits and pieces. Snap pulls a datachip from his breast pocket. “Alright, old friend,” he whispers. “Think I might need your help.” Snap pushes the chip into the droid’s personality unit, and then switches it on.

It takes a moment for the droid to engage. Its eyes lock on Snap, and Snap gives it a smile. “MASTER TEMMIN,” the droid says, mangling the droids voice box into an approximation of the voice that Snap is so familiar. “IS IT TIME TO COMMIT VIOLENCE?”

Snap grins. “Yep, Mister Bones. I think it is.”

.

Above Crait, Wedge watches the battle with increasing concern. The _Crystalline Dagger_ ’s shields are failing, having taken a lot of the battering. Wedge has lost five pilots up here; the losses have just hit double-figures in the battle on the surface of Crait. The First Order has taken heavier damages, but it’s obvious to everyone that they are running out of time.

“Get us in front of the _Dagger_ ,” Wedge orders to the officer at the navigation station. The _Mon Mothma_ _’s_ shields absorb the hits that were earmarked for the _Crystalline Dagger_ , and the small ship limps into cover behind the _Mon Mothma_ ’s bulk. “And has anyone got a damage report?”

“Here, sir!” The officer on the operations station raises her hand, and Wedge dashes over. He scans the readout, and shakes his head.

“Get me the _Dagger_ _’s_ bridge,” Wedge says. He sprints to communications. “ _Dagger_ , have you still got your hyperdrive?”

There’s a brief pause. “Affirmative, Admiral.”

Wedge breathes a sigh of relief. “I want you to fire it up and jump to hyperspace. You’ve done enough. We can’t repair the damage, not here.”

“But sir—”

“I know all about having to retreat from a battle,” Wedge says. Thirty-five years ago, he’d had to pull out of that Death Star trench, knowing absolutely that it was the right thing to do, but the regret and guilt haunt him to this day. “But we’re almost done. We can’t cover you forever. Go, whilst you still can.”

“Aye aye, sir.”

The _Crystalline Dagger_ disconnects, and Wedge orders the remainder of Green Squadron to cover their exit. He looks out of the view screen and notices that the _Mon Remonda_ is taking a battering as well. But her shields are built to hold.

“Come on Snap,” Wedge says, more to himself and the air then anyone specific. “Lets get them out of there.”

Wedge is busy trying to deal with the fact that a few of the First Order ships are totally still armed and not entirely dead and the fact that the leadership has sort of noticed that he’s a problem all whilst co-ordinating everything and just, trying to buy time.

.

Snap scrabbles down the rocky face, down to where a girl is already standing. Mister Bones follows him. The girl must be Rey, and as Snap crashes down onto solid ground again, she turns round, gaze sharp, face splintering into anger.

It softens when she takes in his features. “You’re Resistance,” she says. She scrunches her face, trying to draw on a memory.

Snap waves her off. It’s not important for her to know who he is. “Yes, and the rest of the Resistance is trapped inside that mine, and we need to get them out.”

“DESTRUCTION REQUIRED?!” The statement from Mister Bones contains a hint of a question.

Snap shakes his head, and flicks his commlink on. “Yo Poe, any luck?”

“They’re right there,” Rey says. “I can feel it.”

“Dead end,” Poe says, sounding tired and defeated. “Those crystal critters can get out, but…”

Snap glances around, and spies a wave of the creatures Poe is talking about racing across the ridge. He looks at Rey, and then at the pile of rocks before them. “Mister Bones, you think you can break through that wall?”

This droid isn’t equipped with a fraction of the weaponary that the original Mister Bones droid had, but the programming is enough to wreak havoc. Mister Bones advances, but Rey holds up her hand.

“Let me.” Snap beckons Mister Bones back. Rey reaches her hand out, and closes her eyes. For a moment, there is nothing – a silence. Laser fire echoes in the distance, but it pales away. And then. Everything around them begins to thrum, and the rocks begin to lift away, Rey removing them and pushing them into the air, dancing around.

The Resistance, headed by Poe and Finn, spills out of the mine. Rey’s face brightens into a smile, and the rocks fall away at the sides. Finn goes straight to Rey and there’s an embrace, and Snap’s eye lands on Poe and the ragged remains of the Resistance. There are fewer of them than he’d hoped, but more than his worst fears. Overrall, it is a win.

Poe clasps Snap’s arm. “Man, it’s good to see you.”

Snap returns it. “Good to see you too Poe.” He casts his eye over the Resistance figures, still emerging. He can’t see Penn, or Lizan, but medical will be the last out. They often are. “Okay, lets get you all out of there. Admiral Antilles is waiting for us.”

A mass of bodies heads for both the ships. They end up splitting themselves roughly equally between the ships. Poe follows Snap, and inserts himself into the vacant co-pilot’s seat. “How’s Jess?” Poe asks, as he and Snap fire up the ship.

Snap flicks to Blue Squadron’s comm channel. “Testor, you there?”

“Sure, just a bit busy!” she replies.

“We’re on our way out, just hang on,” Poe replies. A smile crosses his face.

“Black Leader!” Jess’s joy is plain in her voice.

“Testor, alert the Admiral. We’re clear and we’re coming home. Recall the fighters. Mission success.” From his viewscreen, Snap watches the Falcon take off, and swiftly moves to follow them. He looks across at Poe and a giddy relief crosses him. At least some of his friends made it out.

A commotion sounds behind them. “Let me through—!” an insistent voice sounds, one that Snap knows all too well. “Let me through, he’s my _husband_.”

Snap has barely had a chance to turn around when Lizan pushes her way into the cockpit. She sees him and throws herself straight into his arms, and Snap clutches her close, comforted by the confirmation of her survival. But that respite quickly turns to dread when he realises she’s crying, and that a second figure hasn’t followed her. Snap feels the ground drop from under him. “Penn?” His voice shakes.

Snap has always known this day might come. But he hadn’t expected the dread that would claw at his heart, how ice cold he feels, the weight of the impending news already a dead weight around his neck.

“Oh Snap.” Lizan is crying, and Snap wishes she’d just tell him. He wonders how Penn died, whether they went with one of the ships, in the First Order’s barrage, or whether they died on the lines at Crait, performing a soldier’s duty. “Penn’s fine,” she says, and Snap can’t quite believe what he’s hearing. “Penn’s alive. Or I think they are. General Organa sent them away on the last transport heading for the Echo of Hope.”

Delivered from that particular anguish, Snap collapses. He weeps on Lizan’s shoulder, whilst she wraps her arms around him. Beside him, Poe just continues flying, and doesn’t say a word.

They’ve all come through hell to get here.

It’s a miracle that any of them are alive.

.

The moment Snap’s shuttle and the _Millennium Falcon_ are in the _Mon Mothma_ _’s_ hangar, Wedge orders a jump to Hyperspace. The _Mon Mothma_ and the _Mon Remonda_ leave the battlefield in clear flashes. Most of the starfighters are back on board; those that aren’t are hyperdrive-equipped and will follow the capital ships.

Wedge ensures that his staff have everything well in hand before excusing himself. He heads down to the hangar as fast as he can whilst still retaining a shred of dignity.

The remnants of the Resistance are spilling off the ships. Wedge’s medical staff are already about, weaving in and out of the battered Resistance soldiers, escorting casualties off to sickbay. Republic pilots, in their blue flightsuits, mingle amongst those in Resistance orange. Wedge is struck by how familiar the scene is, the visceral sense memory that is brought on by the smell of engine oil and sweat and the fraught tension in the air, that sends him back thirty years.

Leia Organa is standing on the gangway of the Falcon, and it only takes a moment to remember thirty years ago, her on the same spot, bickering with Han about whatever had broken this time, whilst Luke laughed jubilantly and chattered away to Artoo. The memory makes Wedge’s heart ache. One of those men is dead, and the other is still lost to them.

His eyes meet Leia’s. Her gaze is full of impenetrable sorrow, grief clouding her features. Wedge can hardly imagine how much she has lost.

And then there is a shout of “Princess!” and Wes Janson is muscling his way through the Resistance soldiers and bounding up the gangway to lift Leia off her feet, twirling her around. Leia goes along with it, burying her face in her shoulder, and Wedge wonders if, perhaps, everything might be alright in the end after all. Hobbie is not far behind Wes, though he moves far more sedately, and when Wes has put Leia down, Hobbie draws her into an embrace. When they draw back, Leia’s spirits appear to have been lifted a bit.

Wedge recognises some of the faces amongst the surviving Resistance crew. He taught some of them. Poe Dameron appears to be carrying on four different conversations, flitting between pilots and ground crew. And then Jessika Pava spots him, and there’s a dramatic reunion, Poe kneeling down to lift Jess up and practically throwing her over his shoulder. Snap finally emerges from the shuttle that he was flying, Lizan beside him. He notices some faces he doesn’t know, but who must be important anyway, the way people are congregating around them, looking up at them in wander. There’s a girl, three steps behind Leia, she seems to spark with power.

When Leia has had the chance to disembark the Falcon, Wedge steps forward to meet her. She takes his hand in hers curling his fingers in her own. She puts Wedge straight at ease. She’s always been so good at that.

“It’s good to see you, Wedge.”

He manages a slight smile in response. Wedge can’t shake the nagging doubt that he should have been there sooner, that maybe there is a reality out there when he is not welcoming the ragged remnants of a Resistance onto his ship, but instead meeting them as equal partners. “Leia,” he responds. “I— I saw Luke.”

There are other things to say, more important things to deal with, but at the moment Luke is his principle concern, all he can think about. “I did too,” Leia says. “I think he came to say goodbye.”

Wedge shakes his head. “No— Mine didn’t feel like that. He’s still out there, waiting for us to find him.”

“I did.” The girl Wedge had observed steps up, interrupting their conversation. “He said he went to Aach-To to die. I think it was one of the few things he was serious about. He intends for the Jedi to die with him.”

“And yet he trained you, Rey,” Leia says, looking at the girl. “I think Luke’s decisions may not be as iron-clad as he’d like to believe.”

Wedge looks at them both. He’s missing half this story, he knows it – ever since Luke took up his mantle of being a Jedi in earnest, Wedge has never been able to understand the truth of him, only ever catching glimpses. But it sounds like what Luke needs now is someone who knows him, someone who has never needed him to be a Jedi, or the saviour of the Galaxy.

Wedge has only ever wanted Luke to be Luke. None of the rest of it matters.

“I want to go to him,” he tells Leia. “I think he’ll listen to me. And besides – he’s wrong. The Jedi will never die with him.” Wedge stops himself before he says too much. The contingency – Mara Jade’s contingency – still has to be a secret. He doesn't know how much of the truth Leia might have gathered over the years, how much she suspects, but Wedge won’t confirm it.

Luckily, Leia and Rey seem to both think that Wedge is speaking in the abstract. Or that he is speaking of Rey, this girl who Luke saw fit to train even after his pronouncements. “I can show you the way. And Rey – Rey can tell you what to expect.”

Wedge looks over to the girl. He offers her his hand. She reminds him of Luke, in so many ways, the cautious way she’s looking things over but the innate curiosity that is itching at her, the power she wields, and yet – she is hope.

.

Snap is not one for command decisions. He busies himself with what he knows; pilots, ships and droids. He forceably removes Poe Dameron from duty and sends him off to medical with Lizan; Poe hasn’t been alright since Jakku, and he desperately needs some rest, some psychological counselling, and likely a good meal. Many of Wedge’s pilots are veterans of the first Galactic Civil War, held in awe by the Resistance kids, and so Snap forms a bridge between the two.

Snap’s busy overseeing the division of new flight rotas, allocating the resources they have in the best way, when he notices Wedge and Leia walk into the hangar. Wedge is out of uniform, and has a pilot’s duffle bag thrown over his shoulder. Leia sees him to a shuttle, and they speak for a brief moment. Leia kisses his cheek as she turns to leave, and Wedge is left alone.

And looking to all the world like he’s leaving.

Snap dispenses with what he’s doing and heads over. He boards Wedge’s shuttle, to find Wedge in the pilot’s seat, running through a pre-flight check. “Where the hell are you going?” Snap blurts, standing in the doorway, hands clutching the frame.

Wedge turns around. “I’m going to find Luke, Snap.”

Snap sags against the cockpit opening. “You—” He shakes his head. “You can’t do that. You can’t leave. The Resistance needs you. The Republic needs you. The Galaxy needs you!”

“If the Galaxy needs an old man past his prime, than we really are in bad shape.” Wedge smiles wryly. “Besides. I’ve always been replaceable. You’ll do fine without me.”

“Why are you going then? If we don’t need you, then we certainly don’t need Luke.”

“Because he’s my friend,” Wedge replies, imbuing the word _friend_ with so much more; trust, partnership, care, love. “And I can’t leave him out there alone. And if he won’t come back, well. I’ll stay with him.”

A lump forms in Snap’s throat. Wedge _can_ _’t_ go. He’s solid and dependable and will always be there until the end of time, as far as Snap is concerned. But he swallows it down, and forces himself to think. If Lizan, or Penn, or hells, even Jess, had taken themselves off to the edge of the Galaxy, would Snap be able to leave them there? The emotion wells up inside and Snap almost chokes on it and he knows, absolutely, that he couldn’t.

“I understand.” Wedge looks up at him gratefully. “But you better come back, or you’ll have half the Republic on your doorstep, convincing you to come home.”

Wedge smiles. It’s soft, and happy, and doesn’t contain any of the wear that’s dogged him since Snap arrived. “Hot tip: send Mara. She’s got a talent for annoying Luke into things.”

Snap nods. “I think if I can believe anyone is capable – then she is. And you are. Between the two of you… well, if anyone could bring Master Skywalker back, you could.”

“Goodbye, Snap.” Wedge stands up, placing a hand on Snap’s arm. Snap refuses to stand for Wedge’s half-hearted farewell, and pulls him into a hug. “And tell your mother I’m—”

“Whatever you’re going to say, I think she knows,” Snap replies.

Wedge draws back. He wipes his eyes with the heel of his hand. “Good luck, Snap. With all of it.”

.

In the days and weeks that follow, Snap and Jess find their places amongst those who are left. The Resistance has been decimated. The full list of the dead is still being compiled, but the list is long.

There are a lot of friends on that list. Tallie was one of the best of the new crop – young and eager and headstrong, but with more sense and caution about her than the Resistance’s top fliers. She’s always reminded Snap of Wedge, the pilot who is always behind and not getting the glory, but working hard just because it needs to be done. He didn’t know Paige Tico well, but her story is already passing into whispered legend. Before long, she will join the names of the whispered remembered dead that the pilots pray to: Rook, Merrick, Darklighter, Senesca, Crynyd, L’ampar, _Tico._

There are other stories being told too.

Stories about Luke Skywalker, who came in the Resistance’s moment of need, in the Republic’s, who walked amongst the common men. To wish them luck, blessing them. He’d walked onto the battlefield, stood against the First Order for the briefest of moments, brought them low.

And then he’d vanished.

Rey is keeping her time with Skywalker close to her chest. She’s a different girl to the one who left the Resistance base on D’Qar, the scavenger girl who had caught the eye of Han Solo. She spends most of her time with Leia, or in the Falcon, examining books and doing all sorts of strange things that no one understands. There is no lightsaber on her belt, and when asked about one, she seems to have little concern about it.

Snap wonders whether he should tell her about Mara Jade, and about his suspicions about what might be happening on the _Errant Venture_. He thinks it isn’t his place. There are others who are better served to help her on that journey. Snap hopes that Wedge succeeds where Rey failed, that he will bring Luke Skywalker back to them. They might not need him to win this war, but that doesn’t mean he isn’t wanted.

General Organa agrees a pact with General Kalenda and Admiral Kenn, who Wedge has ceded control of the Republic forces too. The Resistance will continue to operate as a distinct entity, but information and resources will be shared, and joint operations launched as required.

The First Order, even beaten back, seem to have endless resources. Half the galaxy has fallen under their control, and their reach continues to grow. No one knows where the line will be drawn, when it will stop. It took the Rebellion twenty-five years to beat the Empire back. This war will not last that long, not if the Resistance has anything to say about it

.

“Snap!”

Snap is not halfway down the shuttle’s gangway when he’s tackled by Penn. The full-body embrace is almost enough to knock him off his feet, but Snap manages to stay standing, wrapping his arms around Penn and embracing his partner. Snap pulls back and cups Penn’s face. “You’re alive,” Snap whispers, almost reverent. He kisses Penn, sweetly.

“So are you,” Penn whispers back. “We’re never splitting up again. I can’t bear to not know whether you are both safe.” Lizan pokes her head out the shuttle’s door at that moment, and Penn lifts her off her feet, spinning her around and kissing every place he can reach on her face. Snap smiles at the sight. He’s still got the people he loves.

“You know, I think Rose was onto something.” Snap looks down and Jessika Pava is standing at his side. “We’re not going to win this destroying what we hate. We’ll win this war by saving what we love.”

“When did she say that?”

Jess waves Snap off. “Not important.” She looks at Penn and Lizan, still caught up in their boundless delight that neither of them is dead. Snap knows that he’s got a dopey smile on his face from watching them. Jess isn’t far off. “You keep fighting for what you love. You and Lizan joined this fight together, and you found Penn, and now you keep each other safe. Your mother fought to keep you safe, in that war all those years ago.” She takes a deep breath. “That’s why Antilles went after Skywalker, isn’t it?”

“Wedge has always gone after Luke,” Snap answers. He still doesn’t know how much Wedge was motivated to go after Luke because of that old friendship, and how much is because Wedge might still be in love with Luke.

“We’re going to win this,” Jess says. It’s a far cry from her earlier despondency. Snap turns to shoot her a skeptical look. “Maybe not today, maybe not tomorrow, but we are going to win this. We’re better than them.”

Snap grins. “Yeah. We are.”


End file.
